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<title>(Some of) The Times Vilkas Thought About His Harbinger by AssassinsAndAngels</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480861">(Some of) The Times Vilkas Thought About His Harbinger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinsAndAngels/pseuds/AssassinsAndAngels'>AssassinsAndAngels</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:48:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinsAndAngels/pseuds/AssassinsAndAngels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this while very much sleep deprived and upset, so I hope you enjoy!</p><p> </p><p>Vilkas tries not to think about the quiet young woman who unexpectedly becomes the Harbinger. But there are moments where he can't help it, especially when she asks him to follow her to High Hrothgar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Some of) The Times Vilkas Thought About His Harbinger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When a stranger walked in on his discussion with Kodladk, he was beyond annoyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was a Nord, a few inches shorter than he was, with fiery red hair that fell to the middle of her back. Dressed in steel armor and smelling as if she had just come from a burning building, Kodlak had agreed to let him test her arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then.” He muttered. She frowned at him, but followed. He was even more surprised when she pulled out two small daggers. He had always known those who use heavy armor to use larger weapons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her strikes were much harder than he had expected, and much more calculated. She got a few hits on him before he began striking back, noting how she dodged rather than blocking. It made sense, with her weapon choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take this to Eorlund. Careful, it’s probably worth more than you are.” He grunted when she was done. She still hadn’t said a word to him, just nodded and walked towards the Skyforge. He watched her go, frowning at the way her red hair swayed back and forth with each step. His wolf was suddenly restless, and Vilkas attributed it to the annoyance that she had landed a few good hits on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her name’s Kris. I think it’s short for Kristen? But she hasn’t told us much else.” Aela commented later that night. She was watching them all carefully, as if she was assessing them. When she turned to gaze at him, he found himself looking away. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the whelps tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“She took it well, brother. Smiled and nodded, barely even asked any questions!” Hours after her trial, Farkas revealed that she knew about the beast blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you were expecting. I’d think she was a mute, except I heard her speak to Kodlak.” He grumbled. Farkas’s eyes turned to him, widening in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was weeks ago! Has she not said anything to you?” Farkas sounded as if he were ridiculing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has she said anything to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t shut up once you get her talking!” Farkas grinned as he began to speak. “She can turn the most boring subjects into interesting. We had an hour long conversation about whether blue or red was the better color! Well, she did most of the talking.” His brother mused, running a hand through his hair. Vilkas hated the twinge of jealousy that ran through him. Of course he was the only one she didn’t talk to, he realized as Farkas continued on about how much she talked. How much she talked to everyone but him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vilkas. We’ve avenged him. Calm down!” Kris’s words cut through his haze. He looked down at his hands, frowning as he saw his elongated fingers. He blinked as he looked at the carnage. He didn’t change, but by the look of things he didn’t stay human either. And judging by the way her eyes were filled with concern, something else must have happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Silver Hand leader was lying unconscious on the ground, and the Wuuthrad fragments were on the table. He sighed as he picked them up, not sparing another glance for the leader. At least they wouldn’t be bothered anymore by the idiots. Silver didn’t actually do much more against Werewolves than iron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” His voice was two octaves lower than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lost control. Ran ahead. I dunno what happened, just that I came in and found them all dead and you… you were half beast half man.” She frowned, quieting down before her eyes flashed with anger. “What in Oblivion were you thinking?” Her hands gripped the front of his armor, pulling him closer. “You don’t go into something like that. What if you had died? I can’t be the cause of another Skjor!” She shoved him away, turning around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, dumbfounded. Another Skjor? As far as he knew, Skjor had died because he went in without… oh. That was exactly what he had just done. Cursing his stupidity, he moved to sit beside her. Just as he was opening his mouth, she cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. We’ve delayed his funeral enough.” Her gaze was cold as she regarded him before walking towards the exit. Sighing, he followed her. She was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Harbinger. Kris. Harbinger Kris?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None felt right. Harbinger was Kodlak’s title. Kris was… Kris. And Harbinger Kris just sounded wrong. Vilkas laid his head in his hands. Kodlak was pure, Vilkas himself intended to cure himself, but he was working up the courage to ask her. Farkas said she would probably drop everything to take him. Farkas was also her closest friend in Jorrvaskr, and the pair had been cleansed together. Aela had distanced herself from them, obviously saddened by their decision to rid themselves of the blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him months to work up the courage to ask her to cleanse him. To his surprise, she agreed. As Farkas predicted, she dropped everything to take him back to the tomb. When they emerged, he finally felt whole again. Like his own man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unluckily for them, a dragon chose that moment to attack. Vilkas swore under his breath. The green beast was circling them. Mesmerised, Vilkas simply stood there and watched as the dragon landed in front of him. A sudden shove sent him several feet away, and he watched with horror as the dragon sent a gust of flames at Kris, who now stood in his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost had a heart attack when he saw her standing there, a simple ward up that protected her from most of the damage. She didn’t spare him a glance as she began to fight the dragon. Shaking his head, he joined in, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her face when his blade joined hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easier than he thought it would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You helped.” Her cool gaze settled on him as she regarded him. Something was different this time, he could feel it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked. She shrugged, looking at where her ebony dagger laid discarded on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve fought six dragons before. You’re the only one besides a few guards that have ever attempted to help.” It struck Vilkas as odd. No one had helped her just because she needed it? It was his turn to regard her as she used her other dagger to scratch something unintelligible into the dirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t surprise you that I’m the dragonborn.” It was a statement again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was actually a question. So he settled for shrugging, leaning forward to rest his palms on his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only thing that surprises me about that is that you haven’t been to High Hrothgar yet.” It was true. Everyone in Tamriel had heard the call. Everyone in Skyrim knew that the dragonborn remained a mystery. Everyone except him, and the Jarl of Whiterun and his court. A warm feeling spread through him at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought about what you said, after the dragon fight.” Two weeks later she came crashing into his room in the middle of the night. He almost threw the book he was reading at her, but managed to control himself just in time. She probably would have dodged it, but it was the thought that counts. In his opinion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go to High Hrothgar. I’m leaving Farkas in charge.” Her long hair was braided, the end resting just under her breasts. She had cut it last week, and everyone had noticed the change. In her year of living in Jorrvaskr, she had never cut her hair to the point where it reached her waist. Three days after he noticed she had come in crying one day, and come back up after chopping over a foot off. Anyone who commented on it was given a glare. She didn’t speak at all that night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Was all he said. He didn’t really know why she was telling him if she was leaving his brother in charge. He felt a twinge of jealousy. His entire life he was told he was smarter, and it seemed the current Harbinger didn’t think so. He tried not to let it bother him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think a lot about that day, you know.” She said quickly. “About the dragon, about your cleansing. You reacted similarly to my powers as I did to yours.” He remembered Farkas telling him about how she didn’t say anything until he brought it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She began pacing the room. It suddenly struck him that it was the middle of the night and she was pacing in his room after telling him she was leaving for Divines knew how long. He sat up straighter, swinging his legs over the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you telling me this?” He asked quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do it alone.” Her response was immediate. She turned, her blue eyes piercing into his silver ones. “I need someone to help me make the right decisions, to help me fight, to keep me sane.” She took on a more frantic look then. Frantic and unsure. He decided he didn’t like it. “I guess I was wondering- I mean I know it’s a lot to ask and I haven’t been the friendliest but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kris.” He interrupted her. He had barely noticed she had started pacing again, and when she once again turned to him he realized how much he looked like a deer caught in magelight. “I’ll come with you.” Her face lit up as she threw her arms around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiting was the worst. The two great dragons watched him fiddle with his sword, before pacing, then swinging it against a pile of rocks. Rinse, repeat. Somehow they knew she would arrive back at the Throat of the World, so here he was. Waiting for her, as he knw he always would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure when it had happened. Maybe during one of their (many) dragon fights, or the few nights where it was so cold sharing a bedroll had been the only option, but somehow he had fallen for her. Or maybe it was there the whole time and he had only realized it at that point. He hadn’t even truly realized it until he saw her ride the dragon away, and all the words he wished he had said were on the tip of his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when he heard the CRACK, followed by a woman with long, red hair falling through the air, he raced to catch her. He fell under the pressure of her weight, wrapping his arms around her waist. He felt her shift above him, grinning at him. She had so many bruises… and scars that looked as if they had only healed because of magical help. But it didn’t matter, because she was alive and she was with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t listening as she told the dragons about the fight, about Alduin’s defeat. He was too busy watching her, making sure she was okay. The tired smile she gave him at the end of it all was enough to convince him to spend two nights in Ivarstead rather than go straight home. After all, she needed the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost didn’t believe what he heard when she just asked for a single room. He almost didn’t believe his eyes when she smiled shyly at him before taking a step closer. He almost didn’t believe his body when he felt her soft lips press against hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have told you before. I love you.” He whispered when it was over. Her eyes widened before she threw her arms around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just something a little different from my main fic :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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